84 85
ess Nordston, who believed in spiritualism, began to describe the mar-
vels she had seen.
“Ah, countess, you really must take me, for pity’s sake do take me to
see them! I have never seen anything extraordinary, though I am
always on the lookout for it everywhere,” said Vronsky, smiling.
“Very well, next Saturday,” answered Countess Nordston. “But
you, Konstantin Dmitrievitch, do you believe in it?” she asked Levin.
“Why do you ask me? You know what I shall say.”
“But I want to hear your opinion.”
“My opinion,” answered Levin, “is only that this table-turning
simply proves that educated society—so called—is no higher than the
peasants. They believe in the evil eye, and in witchcraft and omens,
while we...”
“Oh, then you don’t believe in it?”
“I can’t believe in it, countess.”
“But if I’ve seen it myself?”
“The peasant women too tell us they have seen goblins.”
“Then you think I tell a lie?”
And she laughed a mirthless laugh.
“Oh, no, Masha, Konstantin Dmitrievitch said he could not be-
lieve in it,” said Kitty, blushing for Levin, and Levin saw this, and, still
more exasperated, would have answered, but Vronsky with his bright
frank smile rushed to the support of the conversation, which was threat-
ening to become disagreeable.
“You do not admit the conceivability at all?” he queried. “But why
not? We admit the existence of electricity, of which we know nothing.
Why should there not be some new force, still unknown to us, which...”
“When electricity was discovered,” Levin interrupted hurriedly, “it
was only the phenomenon that was discovered, and it was unknown
from what it proceeded and what were its effects, and ages passed
before its applications were conceived. But the spiritualists have be-
gun with tables writing for them, and spirits appearing to them, and
have only later started saying that it is an unknown force.”
Vronsky listened attentively to Levin, as he always did listen, obvi-
ously interested in his words.
“Yes, but the spiritualists say we don’t know at present what this
force is, but there is a force, and these are the conditions in which it acts.
Let the scientific men find out what the force consists in. Not, I don’t
see why there should not be a new force, if it...”
“Why, because with electricity,” Levin interrupted again, “every
time you rub tar against wool, a recognized phenomenon is manifested,
but in this case it does not happen every time, and so it follows it is not
a natural phenomenon.”
Feeling probably that the conversation was taking a tone too seri-
ous for a drawing room, Vronsky made no rejoinder, but by way of
trying to change the conversation, he smiled brightly, and turned to the
ladies.
“Do let us try at once, countess,” he said; but Levin would finish
saying what he thought.
“I think,” he went on, “that this attempt of the spiritualists to ex-
plain their marvels as some sort of new natural force is most futile.
They boldly talk of spiritual force, and then try to subject it to material
experiment.”
Every one was waiting for him to finish, and he felt it.
“And I think you would be a first-rate medium,” said Countess
Nordston; “there’s something enthusiastic in you.”
Levin opened his mouth, was about to say something, reddened,
and said nothing.